


Even If It's Just Pretend

by DeanmonandAngel



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cutesy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Normal AU, Pining, Slow Burn, but also sort of fluff right away, well sort of a slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2018-10-13 19:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10519890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanmonandAngel/pseuds/DeanmonandAngel
Summary: Simon is broke, his foster father is an asshole, and he knows he has nowhere to go when summer break comes around. So when he sees an ad for a paid psychology experiment involving romantic couples, he's quick to pretend he's in a relationship...with his nemesis/roommate Baz.AKA the faking dating trope that we know we all love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Simon**

I can’t stop tapping my foot, I feel nervous energy surging all throughout me. I hate this, I hate being analyzed and I hate people trying to prod around in my head. I hate it, but I don’t have any other choice.

I’m sitting in the psychology department, getting dirty looks from the couple sitting two chairs down from me (presumably because of the tapping) and I have a strong urge to glare at them (I don’t).

The lady at the desk (Claire?) is talking on the phone, her perfectly manicured nails tapping lightly against the base of the phone. She told me ten minutes ago that it would only be a minute until she could talk with me. She’s been on the phone since then and I start to wonder if she’s talking to a friend. I’m already half-way off my chair to confront her about it when she sets the phone down neatly and glances at her notes, calling out: “Simon Snow?”

I sort of stumble on my way out the chair and she just stares at me pointedly as I make my way over to her, leaning over the slate gray counter that separates up. “Yes, hi.”

“Hello,” She purses her lips, looking me up and down (the part she can see from behind the counter) and smiles. “How may I help you?”

“Are there any paid studies that I can take part in?” I ask, I feel my fingers start to flutter on the countertop and I shove them in my pockets before she has a chance to notice.

“There are a few, yes,” She smiles again, pulling something up on her computer. “I have a list here.”

“Cool, great,” I respond (rather lamely).

“Are you a parent?” She asks doubtfully.

I shake my head.

“Are you an identical twin?”

“I might be,” I sort of chuckle, and I can hear how lame the joke sounds as I say it, but I have no choice but to go through with it now.

“Excuse me?” She raises her eyebrows, clearly not amused.

“Well, I was raised in the foster system. So, I technically could be a twin,” I try for another chuckle, she still doesn’t reciprocate.

“Well, that’s...nice. But it doesn’t exactly work for us does it?” She glances back at her computer. “Are you in a relationship?”

“Yes!” I exclaim, half because I know it won’t be hard to fake and half because I momentarily forget about my breakup with Agatha.

“Great,” She says, her voice expressing exactly zero excitement. “Is it a committed, monogamous relationship?”

“Uh huh.”

“Have you been dating for at least six months?”

I nod.

“Are you both over 18?”

“Yes.”

“Are you currently living together?”

I only think for a second about the implications of what I’m about to say, about what it would mean I would have to do. “Yep.” I smile brightly at her.

“Awesome,” She says, pulling open a drawer next to her and sifting through a pile of papers. She pulls out a cream colored flyer, I can’t see what’s written on it. But she sets it down in front of her and scribbles something. “Take this,” she pushes it into my hands, “You and your partner need to come down here with this before the end of the month to be submitted into the study. Alright?”

“Okay, thank you so much!” I grin, shoving out my hand to shake hers. She looks surprised, but shakes my hand nonetheless. “I’ll see you later!” I call over my shoulder as I head out of the building.

“Mmm Hmm,” She calls, already on to talking with the couple that was glaring at me earlier.

When I’m out of the building, I take a minute to glance at the flyer in my hand. It reads:

Watford University, Department of Psychology

PAID RESEARCH OPPORTUNITY

Romantic Couples Study

-You and your partner are eligible to participate if you:

-Are in a committed, monogamous romantic relationship

-Have been dating for at least six months

-Are both over the age of 18

-Are currently living together

I sigh when I get to the last one, I won’t be able to fool them that I’m living with someone I’m not. And I definitely don’t have the money to get a place that’s not a dorm, even with a roommate. And my current roommate is a git.

And he hates me.

And I hate him.

And I’m not gay (but I could pretend).

Claire (I think) scribbled in bold letters: COME IN BY THE END OF THE MONTH WITH GIRLFRIEND.

I dip my eyebrows a bit at the word girlfriend. Yes, I am straight, but for this study, I won’t be. I’ll probably go with bi, I want to be as truthful as possible.

I catch myself planning and stop, if I have a hope of this happening, I have to convince Baz. And that’s not going to happen, so I have to keep my hopes down and think of plan b for making extra cash. Because I need it badly.

I crumple the paper and stuff it into my pocket. Until the end of the month, I have thirteen days to convince Baz to do this with me. Thirteen days is a long time, I set my resolve, I will get him to agree. Baz can’t be that much of an arse.

\---

**Baz**

I’m sitting at my desk, trying to focus on my schoolwork, when Snow stumbles into the room. Sounding like a general idiot. I turn to face him, just enough that I can see him but not enough that he can see that I’m watching him. He’s facing his bed, holding a piece of paper. He looks nervous, which is not an unusual emotion for Snow to express. I turn back to my work, setting my eyes low and pretending to not to notice his entrance.

I can feel him come up behind me, can feel his presence. I try to ignore it, he probably just hasn’t noticed how close he’s standing to me (the idiot). I feel him brush my shoulder and nearly jump from the unexpected contact (I don’t though, I’m the collected one).

I turn to snap at him, “Don’t touch me, Snow,” My voice falters noticeably at his expression, it looks like he’s going to ask me something (what could Snow be asking me?). I imagine for just a second that he’s there to confess his love in a grand gesture, to grab me and kiss me. Only a second, then I’m back to my collected and uncaring self.

He falters, his mouth opening just slightly before snapping shut again. This goes on for a moment before I finally stand and face him. “Spit it out, Snow,” I growl, “I don’t have all day.”

“Well, Baz,” He starts, a shy sort of smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He looks adorable, like a puppy, It’s not a look I often see on Snow’s face. And it’s usually just at a distance, like when I’m staring at him talking with Bunce from across the dining hall. “You know I struggle with money, sometimes.”

I narrow my eyes, tilting my head ever so slightly to the right. “And? I care about this, how?”

“Well,” He says again, like a broken wind-up doll. He raises his hand, still clutching the crumpled paper. “I found this thing-”

I snatch the paper from his hand and unfold it. He’s studying my face the entire time, it’s unsettling. The paper is completely crumpled, it looks like Snow did a number on it on the way here. It reads:

Watford University, Department of Psychology

PAID RESEARCH OPPORTUNITY

Romantic Couples Study

You and your partner are eligible to participate if you:

-Are in a committed, monogamous romantic relationship

-Have been dating for at least six months

-Are both over the age of 18

-Are currently living together

Scribbled handwriting reads: COME IN BY THE END OF THE MONTH WITH GIRLFRIEND.

I let out a strangled laugh when I read it. Simon Snow, my roommate. The one who hates me. The one who thinks I hate him. Wants me to pretend to be his boyfriend. I feel like this is some sick joke, some cruel way for the universe to get a laugh. He can’t possibly be serious.

“You can’t be serious,” I’m still laughing, but it’s more of a cruel, practiced laugh now. Less of a hysterical laugh forced out to cover my misery. “Even if the idea didn’t make me sick to my stomach, we could never pull it off. We hate each other, and they’d see that,” I let the paper drop to the floor, it was something to fuel nightmares and dreams. It was a disaster.

“Baz, I know that we hate each other,” He raking his hand through his hair, his face is flushed. He looks like he’s about to explode, I’ll admit, it’s almost more concerning than amusing. “But, you are the only person I can do this with and we some time to prepare, until the end of the month. I need this, you know I don’t have a lot of money and I know that you don’t understand that because you’ve always had everything-”

I tune out his rant, my eyes falling on his perfect blond curls and his blue eyes (which are flashing with determination). He must really need this, because I know he’d have to be desperate to come to me.

And maybe it’s because he’s getting on my nerves.

Or maybe it’s because I can’t stand it when he looks that desperate, when he’s reduced to that.

Or maybe it’s because I think this will be good, that this will lead to something.

Or maybe it’s just because I’m in love with him, and really, I’d give him anything he wanted if he asked enough (I’d give him the world if he really wanted that from me).

For whatever reason, I stop his rambling with a finger inches from his face, and mutter: “Fine, Snow, I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”

He looks utterly shocked, his mouth is hanging open and I resist the urge to tell him what an idiot he looks like. After a second, his face lights up (maybe that’s why I did it), and he looks like he’s about to hug me. And I don’t know if I’d want that or not.

But he doesn’t, he just grabs my hand from where it hangs in front of his face and practically whispers: “Thank you.”

Even that, that little contact, that little admittance that maybe he doesn’t hate me as much as he thinks he does. My nerves are set on fire, and my heart dances around in my chest. I know then that it would be so much worse to be friends with Snow, to be close to him, but never close enough. It just hurts.

So maybe I did it because I hate myself.

He lets go of my hand, still smiling, and it occurs to me that I could just pay him. I could just give him the money and let it be, God knows I have enough of it. But Snow didn’t think of that, so I don’t mention it.

**Simon**

Baz said yes.

Baz. Said. Yes.

Baz is going to pretend to be my boyfriend.

I’m going to pretend to be Baz’s boyfriend.

Now that it’s real, now that it’s a tangible thing. I’m struck by how insane this idea is. How will it work? How will we get anyone to believe us? “How are we going to pull this off?” I ask, echoing my thoughts.

“I don’t know,” He backs away and sneers at me, “This was your idea, you need to figure it out. I have more pressing things I have to deal with.”

“Okay, it won’t be so hard,” I smile nervously, sitting down on my bed and tapping my fingers against my leg. “We just have to convince the people at the psychology department, it’s not like they’ll ask us to kiss or anything. That would be weird.”

“No, we have to convince everyone,” Baz says, his tone bored and his eyes on the homework he’d been working on when I'd burst in.

“Why? It’s just a stupid experiment, no one's going to know about it,” I say, shrugging and pulling my knees up underneath me.

“Actually, I can think of three people I know that work at the psychology department. Plus, Watford is a small school and you have a reputation. We’d really have to sell it,” He tapped his pen along the desk. Turning to look at me just slightly.

Right. My reputation, more like our reputation. Watford is small, and it just so happens that my foster father is the dean, and Baz’s mother was the former dean. Everyone (including me) knew that I had only gotten in was because of said foster father, and Baz (who took great pride in the school) hated that. So our rivalry was well known.

“Can you handle that?” Baz asks, turning his chair completely and narrowing his eyes. He’s making it a challenge. Can you handle that? The words echo. And I have to think about it. Holding hands with Baz in public, being friendly (more than friendly), kissing?

I lick my lips, standing up so that I can fully face him (even though I’m still a good three inches shorter than him), “Yeah, can you?”

“Of course,” There’s fire in his eyes. He staring me down, but halfway through our staredown, his expression changes slightly, into something that I can’t read.

\---

Baz and I agreed that we’d meet to study up at some point, I suggested that we start immediately but Baz started lecturing me on the importance of doing your homework so I left the room.

I’m heading to Penny’s now, I have to tell her before this all blows open. She won’t approve, and she’ll probably offer me money (which I’ll promptly reject it for the same reason I always do).

When I’m standing in front of her door, my throat dries up. How am I supposed to tell her? It’s weird, me and Baz. The thought turns around in my head, but it won’t settle. It’s like bad food, it’s kind of making me sick.

Shaking my head, I knock lightly on the door. She opens it almost immediately.

“Simon!” Her face lights up into a brilliant smile, and she pulls me into the room. Her roommate's side is an utter mess, but it always is, so I don’t give it much thought. “Come in.”

She pushes her glasses up her nose and tucks a purple lock behind her ears. Penny is always changing her hair color, a few weeks ago it was pink, my personal favorite was blue. She heads back into the room and grabs two brightly colored boxes, holding them out in front of her, one is a deep green and the other is cherry red. I recognize them as hair dye.

She holds up the two, her face questioning. “Red,” I say, settling down on her desk chair.

Penny nods and throws them both onto her bed, throwing herself down beside them.

“What’s up?” She asks, staring at me with that intense eye contact. I have no choice but to look away.

“Why do you assume something’s up? Can’t I just visit you, my friend?” I try for a smile, but she knows me too well, and she just keeps staring. “Fine, I um-I did something that you might consider...you know, stupid?”

“What?” She's pursing her lips and I prepare for the judgment that about rain down on me. Penny, bless her, is very judgemental.

“I convinced Baz to be my fake boyfriend for a psychological experiment,” I say it all at once, the words falling out of my mouth before I have time to re-think them.

“You did what?” Her eyes widen, she grabs onto my shoulder, shaking me. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“I needed the money,” I say sheepishly, I don’t like talking about money with Penny. It just makes her feel bad, and I don’t like it when she feels bad for me (or when anyone feels bad for me for that matter).

“You could’ve come to me,” Penny stops shaking my shoulder and just settles her hand there. “You know that.” Penny isn’t rich like Baz, but her family is comfortable, and Penny has extra money.

“No, Pen. We’ve talked about this,” I shut it down, and she knows when to stop.

“Okay, but you could have at least asked me to be your fake girlfriend. It would have been more believable. Hell, even fake getting back together with Agatha would have been less awkward,” She sits back onto the bed, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. I swear she looks offended.

“You and your partner," I air quote the word partner, have to live together,” I point out, dropping her hand. “Also, I’m not sure if I agree with you about Agatha.”

“Wait,” Penny stops, narrowing her eyes. “You got Baz to agree to do this? Baz? He hates you and he has nothing to gain from this.” She considers for a moment, “No offense.”

“None taken," I chuckle, "And I’m as surprised as you,” I say, shrugging. “He kind of made it a challenge, though, I’m a little nervous.”

“You should be,” Penny sighs, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s probably planning something. Some kind of humiliation plot.”

I shake with laughter, holding onto her shoulder for support. “You mean he’s plotting, like I’ve been accusing him of for nearly two years. Penelope Bunce is accusing Baz Pitch of plotting, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Shut up,” She growls, “You’ve had your share of accusations against Baz, it’s only fair that I get to be suspicious one time without you gloating. Since I listened about 2000 times before I started complaining.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. Accuse away,” I grin at her, and think about what it would be like if I could use Penny as my fake girlfriend. The idea creeps me out, Penny’s basically my sister. So even if I could have chosen her, I probably would have still chosen Baz.

     

  

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Simon**

I stay at Penny’s for a while, mostly because I’m not ready to face Baz, my fake boyfriend. But also because Penny was talking to me, and I could talk to Penny for hours. I finally  _ do _ leave when Penny’s roommate Trixie gets back, her girlfriend slung over her arm, both obviously drunk. I leave as fast as I can, Penny shooting me death looks as I grab my stuff. I mouth a quick sorry before shutting the door, grinning.

When I get back to the room, Baz is showering. 

I throw my bag onto my desk and myself onto the bed. Baz will be out of the shower soon, and then we’ll have to talk about it. This whole thing, we’ll have to talk about it, and I desperately wish we didn’t. 

Baz takes forever, and I decide that I’ve got to be doing something when he comes out, instead of just lying on my bed, waiting. So I grab my schoolwork from my bag and start on my math homework. By the time Baz steps out of the shower (ten minutes later) I almost have the second problem finished (which frustrates me so much I nearly throw my papers at him, unprovoked). Instead, I set them carefully by my side, eyeing him. 

“So,” I start furrowing my eyebrows, he sort of turns to face me from where he’s sorting through his drawers. “How are we going to do this?” 

“I don’t know Snow,” He sits down on his bed, pulling on a shirt he grabbed from the drawer. “We need to know each other, at least enough to fool them. And I guess we should get more comfortable being...closer to each other.” 

My cheeks light up in a pink flare, and I hate that they do. I hate that I care. But I don’t say that, I just say: “Okay,” and stand up, moving just a few feet over to his bed. Baz eyes me, but he doesn’t say anything as I keep going and lower myself onto the bed next to him. He’s tense, so I grab his hand and he practically jumps off the bed. 

“Is this...okay?” I ask, I really am trying to be nice, there’s no point in making this harder than it’s already going to be (and it’s going to be really hard). 

His hand is warm in mine, and It’s kind of nice. I haven’t held anyone’s hand since Agatha and I broke up. It’s different. Baz’s hand is bigger, his fingers are longer, but they're just as soft. 

**Baz**

Here I am, holding Simon Bloody Snow’s hand, and he’s letting me (more than that, he’s the one that grabbed my hand). I try to look cool, but he’s just staring at me with those blue eyes and I want to kiss him (maybe I could, and say that it was for the practice). 

He just keeps staring at me like he expects me to react to this. I don’t, but I feel like I’ve been given a gift. The chance to stare at Snow, and hold his hand, and maybe kiss him? (I don’t know if that’ll happen, what situation would arise where we would even have to?). But it also might be a curse, because I can stare at Snow or hold his hand, but I’ll always know that it disgusts him. The thought makes me sick to my stomach, so sick that I yank my hand away. He looks shocked and sort of hurt (or maybe that’s just my fantasy leaking through). 

“Okay Baz, you know we’re going to have to hold hands a lot,” He runs his hand through his hair (the one that was just holding my hand), his eyes fighting me. “So can you just stop being such a prat all the time? Like, can’t we just stop? For now?” He practically growls at me, which I think it pretty prat-like, but I don’t say that. 

Instead, I say: “Okay, fine. Truce.”

“Truce?” He echoes, tilting his head like a cat. We’re so close, and I can see every freckle on his face. 

“Yes, truce,” I sneer, trying to hide every emotion boiling inside me. “No acts of aggression, while we’re doing this thing. Nothing past bickering, and even that, we should keep to a minimum.”

“Okay,” He nods, licking his lips. “But why?”

“Why what?” His question makes no sense, he’s the one that wanted this. I’m just trying to make it work. 

“Why are you coming up with rules? Why do you not want this to fail? Why did you agree to this?” He asks, all at once. I don’t even have time to process one question before he’s on to the next one. 

And suddenly I’m acutely aware of the weight of his knee against mine, and of everything that I’m doing, and how none of this makes sense (especially in his mind). Why did I agree to this? He’s going to figure me out. Even Snow’s not that daft. 

**Simon**

Baz suddenly jumps up from the bed, and I shift with the sudden movement (that’s how close we were). “What was that?” I ask, standing up beside him. 

“That was...nothing,” He sneers again, and I kind of want to punch him. “And, I’m doing this because I want to see what happens. I never miss an opportunity to make you uncomfortable.” He says it with only half the animosity of usual, and I feel like I’ve missed something. 

I want to press him, ask him more questions, but this truce is already fragile so I don’t push it.

“Well, tell me about yourself,” I say, shrugging. 

He looks at me like the idea is revolting. “You first.”

“Okay,” I try for a smile, anything to ease this tension between us. “I was raised in the foster system, and I bounced around to a lot of different homes until I was about eleven, that’s when Davy-” I try to keep my voice calm at his name, but I don’t think I do very well, “-Took me in, let me live here, with him. I stayed with him until I was 18 and then…” I nearly say that he got me in here, but Baz hates that, so just say. “I got in here, and I’ve lived here since.”

“Okay, Snow,” He sits back down on his bed, and I do too, but further away this time. “I was raised in a rich home, my mum died in a fire when I was three. At this school,” He looks around the room as if imagining his mother. His face is sad, sadder than I’ve ever seen it, and I want to comfort him in some way. “And ever since then, I’ve been raised in part by my odd aunt and my cold father. Are you happy, Snow?”

“Yes, actually,” I grin, shifting subtly closer to him, “What’s your favorite color?” 

He looks at me for a moment, takes a breath, and says: “Blue.”

“Red,” I say, smiling a little. 

**Baz**

We stay like that for a while, Snow asking me stupid questions, me answering them. I don’t want to admit how nice it is, to be his friend. Because it’ll only hurt that much more when it’s over. 

Which is how long? I wonder. I’m not sure what’s standard for a psychological test on couples, a few months? I can’t imagine Snow would be up for pretending to date me for a few months, but I couldn’t have imagined that Snow would be up for pretending to date me at all, Snow will surprise you like that. 

We come up with a plan on how to approach this. 

“When should we go down there?” He asks, he’s smiling. He’s been doing a lot more of that lately (at least, a lot more around me). It’s blinding. “I mean, I think we have everything we need. What are they gonna do? Accuse us of faking it?” 

“They could,” I point out. Snow sits back further on my bed, tucking his legs underneath him. He’s been so close all night, and I think that I’m finally starting to build up an immunity (that’s a lie, I’ll never build up an immunity to him). “Maybe we should...go out a few times?” I ask, as uncaring as I can with how much I do actually care.

“I don’t think we need to. But we should, at some point.” He groans, “I can’t believe we have to do that.”

It irritates me, another reminder that we aren’t  _ actually _ friends. I stand abruptly up and run my hand through my hair. “Don’t worry Snow,” I sneer, “I think dating me will actually be a plus for your reputation.”

“As if,” He laughs a little laugh, “My reputation with evil people, maybe.”

“Evil,” I laugh, but it’s a tight laugh, “A bit dramatic, isn’t it?”

“No, you’ve always resented me,” He stands up too, and now I’m mourning our peace (why do I have to ruin everything?). “Just for being alive.”

“You don’t belong here,” I shoot. It’s cruel, but it’s our oldest fight. The reason we started fighting at all, and it’s what I always have in my back pocket when we’re fighting. “My mum made this school what it was and your father comes in, changes everything, and lets you in when you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“He’s not my father,” Is all Simon says, nothing to defend himself. I wonder why.

“Foster father.”

“No.”

“Mentor?”

“I have nothing to do with him, and I want nothing to do with him. That’s why I need this money.”

“What happened?” I ask, my tone just a shade softer. And I sit back down on my bed and slide back until my back is against the wall. Snow sits on his and pulls his legs up on the bed and rests his head on them, facing me. 

“Nothing.”

I don’t push it. 

We don’t talk for the rest of the night, we silently get ready for bed. Putting off any more preparation for tomorrow. 

**Simon**

I don’t tell Baz what happened with Davy because it’s none of his business. I haven’t even told Penny, and we vowed that we wouldn’t keep secrets (I still feel a little bad about that). 

When Davy told me he was my father, and that my mother was dead, I couldn’t face it. 

“Why didn’t you tell me before, when I was spending all those years in the system? Do you know what kind of hell that was?” I’d practically screamed. 

“It was sensitive, I had a school to run.”

“A school? That’s more important than your own son?”

He’d tried to comfort me, I’d shrugged away from him. Moving opposite him in his office. 

“Why now?” I’d asked, I’d been crying. 

He hadn’t said anything, but I could see it on his face. 

“You wanted to use me. You’ve always used me. As a poster boy, for your school. Someone to care for, to show that you're human.” I’d growled, “Well, you aren’t human.”

It was the angriest I’d ever been, I had thought I was going to explode.

“Stay away from me.”

I’d fled the office, slamming the door and running down the spiral stairs as fast as my legs had taken me. I didn’t go back to the room that night, not wanting to deal with Baz (not wanting him to see me cry). Instead, I had spent the night with Penny, avoiding her questions and being stared at by her roommate (who really was nosy).

\---

When I wake up the next day, Baz is still asleep. And for once in my life, I make an effort to be quiet. By the time I’ve showered and gotten ready, Baz is gone. Which is relatively surprising. It’s Saturday, and Baz rarely leaves the room early on Saturday. 

I sit cross-legged on my bed and do some of my schoolwork (I have a never ending pile of it). The worst thing about getting into a school you don’t deserve to be in is you have no idea what you’re doing. Usually, Penny helps me with it, but I always try it on my own first (with poor results). 

It’s about fifteen minutes before Baz returns, with coffee. Two coffees. I frown at that.

He offers one to me, and I just stare at it. 

“What, Snow?” Baz asks, rolling his eyes. “It’s coffee, it won’t  _ bite _ .”

“You got me coffee?” I ask, dumbfounded. For Baz, random acts of kindness  _ are _ something to gawk at (or even just random acts of common courtesy). 

He pulls his hand away, furrowing his eyebrows. “If you don’t want it...” He shrugs. 

“No,” I push myself up from the bed. My work falling off my lap. “I want it, Thank you.” 

Baz hands it to me, and I take a sip. “Chocolate mocha with cherry syrup?” I ask, smiling. “How did you know?”

“You told me last night,” He shrugs, and I remember us talking. “When you were asking me all those stupid questions and then answering them?” He takes a sip of his coffee, which must be…I think for a second and that he drinks pumpkin mocha breve.

“They weren’t stupid,” I shoot back, “I mean, It’s working. You’re already doing boyfriend things for me.”

Baz makes a disgusted face and raises his eyebrows. “You’re right,” He pauses, “Wow, I never thought I’d say those two words, together, to you.”

“Why do you do that?” I ask. 

“Do what, Snow?” He sits at his desk, taking another sip. His eyes are on me, and he looks immensely bored. 

“Insult me at  _ every _ possible moment? Like, couldn’t you just, not?” I ask. I’m being sincere. I’m just tired of fighting (with Baz, with Davy, with everyone), especially when we’re supposed to be on a truce. 

“I’m trying to be efficient,” He smiles, but not the genuine smile I saw last night. It’s a mocking smile. “Can’t have it your head that we’re actually friends.” 

“Whatever, Baz,” I get up to leave, and he groans behind me. 

“Wait, Snow,” He calls out, “I didn’t want you to get so offended that you actually left. Just wait, we can go down to the psychology place now if you want.”

“You think we’re ready?” I ask, biting my lip. This has to be perfect. “Like, you don’t think they’ll see right through it?”

“No, Snow,” He says, standing up and sliding past me. “I don’t think anyone cares enough to see right through it.”

**Baz**

Turns out, everyone cared. We didn’t hold hands or display any affection, but just walking from the dorm to the Psychology building together we got a lot of stares. I wanted to yell at them, to tell them to mind their own business, but I restrained myself because that would only draw more attention to us. 

When we make it there, the woman sitting at the front just sort of stares at us (more staring, it’s becoming intolerable). 

“Um,” Simon says, that’s how he starts half his sentences, with an “Um” or a “So”. I roll my eyes, but don’t say anything. “We’re here.”

She swallows, squinting, and I hate her already. “You two are here together?” She asks, “For the study?”

“Yes,” I cut in, Snow was about to say something but I don’t let him. “I’m his boyfriend and we’re here for the study.” I grab his hand, and it’s warm and sweaty in mine. I want to be grossed out, but I can’t find it in me. I feel weirdly protective of this fake relationship. 

Snow smiles sheepishly over at me and my lips just quirk up at the corners. 

“Okay,” She smiles tightly, pulling two clipboards from the drawer, and then two sets of papers. She slides them over to us and doesn’t say anything else. 

I grab them both and hand one to Snow, letting go of his hand momentarily to do it but grabbing it again to pull him over to the chairs at the edge of the room. I could get used to this, holding his hand casually, pulling him places, defending him (and us). 

“Sit apart from each other, the answers should be private!” She calls from her desk. Simon’s eyes widen, but I shrug. We prepared, we’ll be fine.

When I sit down I release his hand so he can take a seat a few chairs down from me and I grab the pen from the top of the clipboard. I take a look at the form. The first few questions are basic, name, age, sex. Then it starts to get into questions about our relationship.

‘How long have you been in a romantic relationship?’ I put down 13 months, Simon and I agreed on this when we talked last night. Nineteen months ago we had become roommates, and since then we’d been at each other’s throats. So we agreed that our story would be that we started dating shortly after school began, and kept up the rivalry act for show. 

‘How would you characterize your relationship?’ The boxes below read: ‘Same-sex’, ‘Opposite-Sex’, ‘Other’. I checked Same-Sex. 

‘What is your sexual orientation?’ There are four options: ‘Heterosexual’, ‘Homosexual’, ‘Bisexual’, or ‘Other’. I go for honest, and check ‘Homosexual’.

‘Are you cohabitating?’ ‘Yes.’

‘How long have you known each other?’ ‘19 months.’ 

‘Are you dating each other exclusively?’ ‘Yes.’

‘How satisfied are you currently with your relationship?’ I furrow my brows, Simon and I didn’t talk about this. I check the ‘Mostly satisfied’ box, we need room for mistakes. 

‘How confident are you that your relationship will continue for the foreseeable future?’ Again, I go for mostly. I sneak a glance up at Simon, he’s writing on his paper. His foot tapping a rhythm against the floor.

I look back down at my own: ‘In the next year, do you expect to spend an amount of time greater than 1 month away from your partner?’ The options are ‘Yes (explain)’ or ‘No’. I check the ‘No’ box, even with summer vacation we don’t live that far apart and proper boyfriends would make the effort.

The other questions are about contact information, and when I’m finally done, I set my clipboard down and glance at Snow. He puts his clipboard down a second later and looks up at me, smiling nervously. I try for a reassuring smile but it’s an unfamiliar thing for me and I think it comes out strange because Snow frowns at me.

We take the clipboard to the women up front and she takes them and sort of nods at us. Looking over the information. “We have your contact information, so we’ll let you know when we need you back in.”

“Great,” Simon smiles at her, grabbing onto my hand and pulling me out the door (turns out it’s nice even when it’s him doing it). 

Once outside, he turns to me. “Are you ready?” He asks, letting go of my hand. 

“For what?” I ask, shaking my head slightly.

“For everyone to know,” He takes a deep breath, licking his lips. “Did you see the way everyone looked at us? 

“Stuff like that spreads fast at this fucking school,” I add. “It’s like high school all over again. I hated high school.”

He kind of smiles at me, but kind of doesn’t. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Yeah,” I make myself sound more annoyed than I am, more exasperated, less happy. But it’s the truth, I am ready. Because I am going to make the most out of being Simon’s boyfriend (even if it is fake). Because maybe that’ll satisfy my sick fantasies and my twisted crush (I mean seriously, my nemesis. Who does that?). 

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! As always, comments make my day as a writer. I'll try to update once every other day, because I'm participating in Snowbaz feda (fic every day in April).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I was going to update every other day, but my word is crap, I'm sorry.

**Simon**

Baz and I retreat to the dorm, we stay in there for the rest of the day. Mostly because we’re not ready to face our classmates. Baz, reading a book and me, browsing the internet and trying not to think about all my school work.

The next day is Sunday, and I have to work, so I have something to do and think about that’s not my impending social blow up.

When I get in, Ebb is already there, baking something that smells amazing (everything Ebb makes smells amazing). Ebb is the nicest boss I could imagine, when I ask for days off (which I don’t often do), she always allows it. Plus, she’s not bad company.

I greet Ebb with a “Morning,” and a nod. And pull on my apron, switching on the coffee machines before putting up the Open sign.

People come within minutes, mostly regulars, and I busy myself with my work.

A few hours pass and we reach a slow point, so when the bell above the door jingles l look up to see Agatha standing in the doorway. I try for a smile and she kind of smiles back, it’s awkward.

“Hi,” She starts, taking a few steps toward the counter. I can’t help but think of how good she looks, and I want to tell her that I’ll forget everything if she will, that we can just go back to how we were before we broke up. I don’t.

I’m surprised to see her here, she hasn’t come here since we broke up. She must have found a new coffee place, I remember when we first broke up, and everytime someone walked in I would hope it was her. It never was, and I stopped hoping.

“Can we talk?” She asks, smiling a genuine smile.

“Sure,” I beam, maybe she _does_ want me back. Maybe I can stay with her this summer, maybe it’s all falling into place. “Just give me a minute.”

She nods, and I turn around to find Ebb working the oven. “Can you cover the counter for a minute?” I plead, “Agatha wants to talk.”

“Sure,” She smiles kindly, wiping her hands on her apron and taking up the counter, where someone has already lined up near Agatha.

I lead her into the back, where an old table stands, for the employee’s lunch break. We sit in the old chairs and I offer her a sour cherry scone (Ebb keeps a neverending supply for me), holding the basket out in front of me. She shakes her head a little, and I take one for myself.

“What did you want to talk about?” I ask, trying to keep most of the hope out of my voice.

“Well,” She smiles, meeting my eyes and blinking slowly. “We’re still friends, right?”

“Of course,” I say, quickly. It wasn’t strictly true, we’d only seen each other since the breakup, and only when Penny organized it (she was always saying that just because we’d broken up didn’t mean she should lose a friend).

“Great,” Agatha said. “So, what’s going on with Baz?”

 _Fuck_. I’d completely forgotten about that. “What do you mean?” I ask, averting my eyes to a stained spot on the table.

“You and Baz,” She repeated. “I heard about it. Since when?” She’s looking at me like I’m crazy (to be fair, I kinda am).

“Oh,” I say, biting my lip, still not looking at her. “Me and Baz…” I _should_ tell her it’s fake, that’s it’s just for the money.

I _should_.

“We’ve been dating for a few months, it started pretty soon after we broke up.”

But I don’t.

“How? You hated each other?” She bites her lip, looking strange like she’s considering something.

“He’s nice...when you get to know him,” I shrug, taking a bite of one of the scones in front of me.

“Are you gay?” Agatha asks, she seems to be sincerely asking.

“No, I’m Bi,” I shrug, picking at my scone, doing anything I can to put a buffer between us. “Look, Agatha. Why are you here?”

“What?” She seems caught off guard. “I just wanted to see-”

“-This is really none of your business,” ‘ _Unless’_ I think, looking up at her. She’s frowning. “Were you here to get back together with me?”

“No,” She licks her lips, placing her hands over mine. It’s nice, I can’t help but think of Baz’s hand in mine. The difference between them. “But you're still my friend.”

“Well,” I say, pulling my hands away from her and crossing them across my chest. “If you want to be my friend, you should just support me and my relationships.”

“Okay,” She stands up so fast that the chair makes a horrible sound against the floor. Agatha shoots me one last glance, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you later. Bye Simon.”

I regret it when she leaves. I should have just told her.

\---

I meet up with Penny after work, out in the courtyard, we sit on the newly thawed grass. It’s cold, spring is coming, but the icy chill of winter is still lingering, and I’m not wearing enough.

Penny’s looking at me (she’s been looking at me for a long time, silently), her eyebrows furrowed. “I talked to Agatha,” She says suddenly.

“You did?” I ask casually, feigning disinterest.

“Yeah, she talked to me about...Baz,” She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “And you.”

“What did you tell her?” I grimace, I can only imagine what Agatha would think of me if she heard I lied to her about a relationship with Baz. It’s a mortifying thought, she’d think I’m a loser.  

“I didn’t tell her anything,” She assures me, “But she said she talked to you, and yet she still seems to think that you and Baz are in a relationship. Why?”

“Listen,” I explain, she’s already looking at me like she does when I do something stupid. “She came in, and I thought she wanted to get back together. But she just started talking about Baz, and I don’t think that’s any of her business if she’s not my girlfriend. So I told her that.”

“Well,” Penny puts her hands up in the air in mock surrender, “I won’t tell her. But I do think that you should...because I invited her to go to lunch with us.”

“You what?” I complain, throwing my head back. The last thing I want to do right now is go to lunch with Agatha. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Wait-there’s more,” She smiles guiltily, “She thinks Baz is going to be there.”

No, I’ve changed my mind. The last thing I want to do is go to lunch with Agatha _and_ Baz.

“Pen,” I groan, lying down in the grass and covering my eyes with my hands. “

“Well, you said you needed a public date with Baz anyway,” She lies down next to me, her hand reaching for mine.

“Not with my ex-girlfriend.”

“No, you know what?” She resolves, squeezing my hand. “I’m not sorry. Agatha is one of my only friends. And yours, and we are _not_ going to lose her because of some stupid thing with Baz. So deal with it.”

“I hate you,” I groan, my tone light.

“You love me,” I can hear the grin behind her words, and I can’t argue.

\---

When I get back to the room, Baz is sitting on his bed with his laptop. He glances up when I come in, but doesn’t say anything.

“Hi,” I greet him.

He makes a noise that I take as a hello.

“Penny did something,” I sit down on my bed, raising my eyebrows.

“Well, I’d imagine Bunce does a lot of things. So I don’t know why you’re bothering me,” He’s still looking at his laptop.

“No, she did something that involves us.”

Baz sighs, finally dragging his eyes up to my face. “What?”

“She invited Agatha to lunch, with us,” I explain, picking at my nails. “She figured we needed to be seen in public together at some point.”

“Well,” He pushes a lock of black hair out of his eyes. “Spending an afternoon out with you already seems dreadful, so adding Wellbelove to the mix doesn’t sound much worse.”

“Well, Agatha...you know...sort of thinks we’re in a real relationship,” I just stare at him, waiting to see how he’ll react.

“Why?-” He starts, but his face turns into a sort of angry realization, and he pushes his laptop off and stands up. “No, Snow. Faking a relationship for the money is one thing, but I will not be some kind of pawn to make your ex-girlfriend _jealous_.”

“It’s not-I’m not trying to make her jealous!” I say, sounding unconvincing, even to myself. “I just, she came in and I thought that she...-nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I just didn’t tell her, and now if I do tell her it’ll seem like I _did_ do it to make her jealous, and that would be humiliating.” I don’t know if it’s a lie exactly, because I’m not sure I didn’t do it to make Agatha jealous, but I’m also not sure I did. I decide not to think about it because it’s not important in this moment.

“Sounds _real_ convincing,” Baz glares down at me. I’m not sure why he’s getting so worked up about this, what does Agatha have to do with anything?

“Why does it even matter to you whether or not Agatha and I get back together,” I ask, standing up beside him.

He shakes his head, causing his hair to fall in his eyes. I almost want to push it out of the way. I don’t. He does. “I don’t care,” He grits his teeth, “I just don’t want rumors to spread that Simon Snow is cheating on me with Agatha Wellbelove. How humiliating.”

“That won’t happen. Agatha doesn’t want me back,” I shrug, “Just don’t tell her, please.”

He looks up in a ‘God help me’ sort of expression, and then nods tightly. “Just don’t _humiliate_ me.”

“Thank you,” I nod, satisfied.

\---

**Baz**

The next day, we meet for a late lunch at one of the restaurants on campus. I recognize a lot of the people there as students and make a mental note to watch what I say.

I sit next to Snow, and Bunce sits next to Wellbelove. I end up right across from Wellbelove, who is glaring at me before we’re even seated.

No one really talks for the first few minutes, we all just stare at our menus. I finally get sick of it, breaking the silence with a snide “What have you all been up to? Aside from Snow, I know what he’s been doing, seeing as he’s my _boyfriend_ ,” I look pointedly at Snow, who rolls his eyes. I swear Agatha glares even harder at me.

“Nothing much,” Agatha replies, brushing off my antagonistic tone. “So, how did you two start dating? Last I heard you _hated_ each other.”

“Oh,” Simon says, looking over at me for support. I smile at him, but don’t say anything, he dug this hole, he can get out of it. “After we broke up,” He nods his head to her, “Baz, really helped me get through it. And I just,” He pulls my hand into his, laying them both on the table. “Started to feel close to him,” It doesn’t sound convincing, it sounds awkward and devoid of feeling, but my heart jumps at the words anyway (my stupid, hopeful heart).

“Hm,” Is all she says, and I feel like telling her off. She must still be into Snow, why else would she care? I don’t know how Snow doesn’t see it (but then again, he doesn’t see a lot of things).

“Agatha,” Penny cuts in, quick to try to break the tension.  “I hear you plan on spending a year in America after graduation, that’s exciting.”

“Yeah,” She smiles, looking away from me for the first time since she got here. “I was thinking about it, California.”

I glance at Snow, he doesn’t say anything. Just frowns. I imagine this is cutting into his whole, eventually-winning-Agatha-over thing.

“Baz,” Agatha says pursing her red lips, the previous small talk quickly forgotten. “Are you gay?”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Agatha!” Simon glares at her, and I can’t help but smile. “What the hell?”

“Simon,” She shoots back, forgetting the passive aggressive thing we’ve all been playing at. “You don’t think that it’s the tiniest bit suspicious that even though he hated you for years, he’s now suddenly head over heels in love with you?”

“I never said love,” I grin, feigning complete disinterest (in reality, I care a _bit_ ).

She rolls her eyes, getting back to the point. “Baz is cruel,” It’s like I’m not even there. “I mean, he still calls you Snow. I wouldn’t put it past him to fake this all to get back at you for ruining his precious school.”

“Why do you care?” I growl.

Snow glances at me, his eyebrows raised.

“I’m his friend-”

“If you really are his friend,” I interrupt, ignoring her outraged expression. “Then you can rest assured that I’m not going to hurt Simon,” I make a point of saying his first name, just to piss her off. “And if you’re doing this because you’re jealous then maybe you should just leave. Because he’s _mine_.”

She stares, and I can feel Bunce and Snow’s eyes boring into me too. But I just keep my eyes on Wellbelove.

Finally, she crosses her arms in resigned agreement. “Whatever.”

The corner of my mouth quirks up, and I look over at Snow, who’s still staring at me. His eyes are thoughtful, like he can’t read me. I narrow mine before looking away.

_Shit._

He’s mine? I kick myself for being so stupid, for getting so caught up in this stupid game. Snow can’t see past that, he’s not _that_ dumb (despite my many remarks stating otherwise). He’s going to figure me out. Fuck.

Bunce launches a conversation with Wellbelove about classes, obvious in her attempts to fix the group. Soon, Simon joins reluctantly in. I listen but don’t say anything. After a minute, it’s just Snow and Wellbelove talking, Bunce has leaned back in her chair, and I can feel her eyes on me.  

I glance at her.

_Fuck._

She’s wearing a very knowing smile, her eyes are narrowed. She’s figured it out, she has to have.

\---

For the rest of lunch, I try to avoid Bunce’s eyes, but she’s looking at me whenever Snow isn’t. I join in on the conversation enough that no one tries to include me.

We mostly talk about school, a little about Wellbelove’s upcoming trip to America. I make a visible effort not to roll my eyes whenever she speaks, and Snow notices because he squeezes my hand (which is still wrapped up in his) in a not-so-friendly gesture.

After we’re done eating, Wellbelove excuses herself to the restroom.

When she’s gone, Bunce smiles at Snow. “I left my phone in my car,” her tone is light. “Could you grab it for me? I want to be here when the check comes.”

Snow (ever the hero) nods and jumps up, the minute he’s out the door, Bunce turns her gaze on me, and I want to melt into my chair (I’m no coward, but Bunce is intense).

“Why are you doing this thing with Simon?” She tilts her head, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“He asked me,” I shrug (I’ve shrugged more in this past week than I have my whole life, Snow’s influence).

“You’re not one for good deeds.”

“I-”

“-Do you have feelings for him?” She’s not subtle with it, she’s not subtle with anything.

I try for a mocking smile, raising one eyebrow. “That’s absurd, Bunce.”

“Is it? That was a lot of effort, for a guy you hate.”

“I don’t hate him,” I sneer, gripping my coffee cup. “More like, strongly dislike.”

“I don’t buy it,” Bunce leans in close, glancing around (presumably for Snow or Wellbelove). “Tell me the truth.”

I don’t say anything, but that’s enough for her.

She smiles, tucking a bright purple lock of loose hair behind her ear. “You should talk to him.”

I want to say something, but before I can think of anything, Snow is back.

“I couldn’t find it,” He shrugs, resting his hand on my shoulder. I look at it like it’s an Alien, and he takes it off. I want to tell him that’s not what I wanted, I don’t.

“Shit, I must have left it at my dorm,” Bunce swears, with a glance at me that says she had it all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't not have Penny figure it out, she's too smart, Baz is too bad at hiding his feelings. I mean, c'mon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penny is too nosey for her own good, and Simon and Baz participate in their first study.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm back! Hopefully, there will be no more crazy long gaps. So, the actual study...I know nothing about Psychology. Like I took one High School course but...I didn't learn much. I also did some research, but I'm not sure if it helped. So if you do know anything about psychology and those parts are laughable, I warned you.

**Baz**

We separate after lunch, most of us having class to attend, and I hear Bunce huff off something to Simon about needing notes from me from our shared Biology class (which is absolute shit, Bunce has never needed notes from anyone in her life) before she approaches me from behind, throwing her hand onto my shoulder and urging me to stop.   
I want to keep going, but Bunce has a fierce grip, so I growl at her and turn around with a sneer. “What do you _want_ , Bunce?”  
“To talk to you,” She tilts her head ever so slightly, like she’s trying to see through me.   
“Why would I want to talk to you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.  
“Maybe because I’m the best friend of the guy you want to snog,” She grins up at me, not even bothering to hide her amusement. The git.   
“I do _not_ want to snog Snow,” I growl. Lie, total lie.   
“Right,” She nods. “So, for how long and what are you going to do about it?”  
I just roll my eyes at her and keep walking.   
Ever persistent, Bunce keeps on me.  
“Basil, what are you going to do?” She’s practically jogging to keep up with me, which is pretty funny. “Are you just going to pine after him until you graduate?”  
“Why not? I’ve been doing it for nearly two years now,” I don’t want to give her even that, but she already knows enough to damn me by telling Snow (she won’t). So I figure this will appease her, for now.   
It does, she stops walking. Dropping behind me and probably heading back to Snow. When I glance behind me a few minutes later, I can’t see her at all.  
 **Simon**  
When Penny finally catches up to me, she has no notes in hand. I tell her this, eying her suspiciously.   
“Oh,” She shrugs casually, “He didn’t have them on him. I’ll just have to pick them up next time we’re in biology.”  
I nod, my eyes on the ground.  
“What are you doing with Baz?” She blurts, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk ahead of us.   
“What do you mean?” I furrow my brows, she knows what I’m doing. “What do you mean? I needed the money.” I shrug at her, pushing my hands into my pockets.  
“These studies pay crap, Simon,” She says, I can tell that she is trying (and failing) to keep her tone disinterested. “Like 50 pounds, max.”  
“Everything helps,” I mumble, I don’t know what she’s getting at.   
“You’re putting in a lot of effort, and time, for 50 pounds,” She’s prying like she does when she’s trying to tell me something without saying it. “You’re pretending to date someone that you hate,” A pause. “You do still hate him, right?”  
I whip my head to her, my eyes widening. “Of course I hate him!” Throwing my hands up. “He’s been out to get me since freshman year! I just...we’re on a truce,” I stop walking abruptly, Penny stumbles to a stop a few feet ahead. “You don’t understand what it is to have no money, I don’t even know where I’m going to stay this summer.”  
“I know, and I’m sorry for pushing you. But you know you can stay with my family, anytime,” She’s completely turned around, and her usually intense eyes have gone soft.   
I snort, “You’re spending the summer with Micah in America, I don’t think I’m welcome in your house without you. I don’t think your mom likes me,” I scrunch up my nose at the thought of the Christmas vacation I’d spent at her house. Any moment without her there had been unbearably awkward.  
“She just doesn’t like who you align yourself with,” Penny points out. “Though, in light of recent events,” She throws me a sympathetic look. “You can probably bond over it.”  
I smile a little, and I don’t think it quite reaches my eyes.  
\---  
I spend the rest of my classes running what Penny said through my head, I don’t understand what she means. Sure, Baz seemed nice for what he did. But it was really only another chance to drive me insane. I do hate Baz, or at least strongly dislike him. And he hates me. Penny doesn’t know everything, not when it comes to this.   
**Baz**  
I only have one more class that day, and it finishes up around 1 o’clock. I head back to our dorm with the plan to get some revising done. It’s rudely interrupted only minutes through by a loud knock on the door. I growl and roll my eyes, I don’t know who would possibly be knocking on our door. Dev and Niall never come around, they just text me until I finally tell them where to meet. I’d think it was Snow (that git is always forgetting his key) if I didn’t know he had classes until three.   
I stalk over to the door and throw it open to find Bunce’s face grinning up at me. I briefly consider just slamming it in her face when she pushes right through me and into the room.  
“Excuse me, Bunce,” I sneer. Closing the door behind me, “But Snow isn’t here.”  
“I know he isn’t here,” She smiles, “I’m here to see you.”  
I groan, knowing that getting rid of her is going to be a long (and painful) process. “Why?”  
“Because, Basil,” She says, sitting herself down on Snow’s bed. “We’re friends now, aren’t we?”   
I huff, “Friends? No.” I sit down across from her on my own bed. “We’re temporarily not out to get each other.”  
“I only have three friends,” She points out, leaning towards me. “Without you, that’s two.”  
“You’ve had only two friends for a long time Bunce,” I scoff, “I’d think you’d be used to it by now.”  
“Fine, two-point-five, but Basil,” She starts, “What you’re doing with Simon, it's probably not a good idea.”  
“Wow, Bunce,” I roll my eyes, laying on a thick layer of sarcasm, “That’s very insightful. Pretending to date the guy who hates me, who I’m also slightly in love with. Seems stellar to me.”  
“Love?”  
 _Fuck_ , “I mean. It’s a crush,” I brush it off, leaning back against my desk.  
“Whatever it is-” She pauses, her mouth hanging open like she wants to say something, but can’t.  
“Spit it out, Bunce,” I push, “I don’t have all day.”  
“Have you ever wondered why Simon might be doing this?” She ponders, narrowing her eyes. I have a feeling she already knows the answer, or at least she _thinks_ she already knows the answer.   
“You already know why Snow’s doing this, a desperate need for money,” I don’t know where Bunce is going with this. But I know that it can’t be anything short of a disaster.  
“Baz,” She doesn’t usually use my name, the one everyone else calls me. “One hundred pounds isn’t going to change his life, and it certainly wouldn’t be worth putting up with someone he hates. All this time and effort, he could get a bloody second job.”  
“Bunce, if you’re trying to imply in any way, shape, or form that Snow has feelings for me, then you’re an absolute lunatic,” She really is, Snow hates me. He’d probably kick me out of this school right now for fifty pounds.  
She doesn’t say anything, just shrugs, and gives me a cheeky look. “I won’t push it. I don’t know anything.”  
Bunce leaves soon after that, mumbling about how behind on schoolwork she is (and by behind she means to say not weeks ahead). When I’m alone, I don’t let myself think about what she was saying. I even let myself consider, for a single second, that she might be right. I definitely don’t spare a single thought to the idea that she is his best friend, and that she might know him better than I do. Because when Snow is involved, I don’t get lucky like that. And thinking I might could only lead to pain.

\-----  
 **Simon**  
When I get back to the room, Baz is clearly waiting for me. His backpack is slung over his shoulder and he looks up before I can even get the door open all the way.  
“Where have you been?” He keeps glancing at his watch like he has someplace to be.  
“I was revising,” I say, throwing my bag down next to my bed. “Why?”  
“Our first study is today,” He says it like he always does when he thinks I'm stupid. I’m not stupid, I just forgot. “We’re going to be late as-is.”  
“Shit,” I swear, “I completely forgot.”  
“Of course you forgot,” Baz sneers, “Because I have to be here to hold your hand through every bloody step of this. And I’m not even the one who cares.”  
“Oh, fuck off, Baz,” I growl as he pushes past me and out of the room. “You sure seem to care, for someone who hates me,” I mutter, low enough that I think he won’t hear me.   
“What?” Baz all but whips around to face me, apparently, It wasn’t that quiet. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Nothing,” I roll my eyes. “This isn’t worth it, we’re late.”  
“Right,” He agrees, turning back around toward the stairs.  
\---  
When we get to the building that houses the psychology department, Baz doesn’t grab my hand. He barely even looks at me. I can’t help but wish that he would (just so that we make a realistic couple).   
“We’re here for an appointment, we’re a couple that’s participating of one of the studies. Simon and Baz,” Baz announces, like he owns the place. Like he has any idea how we’re going to pull this off.   
“I remember you,” The lady at the desk smiles, a tight, strained smile. She’s the same one that’s always been there. I don’t think she likes us very much at this point. “You’re late.”  
“We-” Baz starts, no doubt with a good explanation.  
“I forgot,” I cut in, smiling as widely as I can. “If it weren’t for Baz we wouldn’t even be here at all.” I put my arm on his shoulder and squeeze. He stiffens a little at the touch, and I don’t know why I’m hurt by that.   
She practically rolls her eyes, and I kind of want to glare at her, but I don’t (Baz is doing enough glaring for both us, anyway). “Alright, sit down. They’ll call you in soon enough.”  
We only sit for about five minutes before we’re called back. When we do, we enter this sterile, white room with a table and a box lying on top. The table has three chairs pulled up to it, two are facing each other and one is to the left. A young man, couldn’t be older than a college senior, stands in the corner.   
“Please take a seat opposite each other,” He tells us, motioning to the table. When we do, he takes the seat to the left and opens the box, pulling out wires and little devices. “We’re going to be hooking these up to you, to monitor your heart rates while we do some activities and ask you some questions.”   
I glance at Baz fearfully, what if this is some kind of lie detector test? What if we fail miserably? I feel like I’m going to fall apart, but Baz looks absolutely cool, which reassures me a bit.  
He hooks up a few wires to our wrists, then adjusts a few things on his device (I don’t even try to understand it, it’s very high tech).   
“Okay, first off,” He glances at the clipboard in his hand. “I’m Connor, if you have any questions about the study, now is the time to ask them.”   
I shrug, and Baz just look bored, so he continues.  
“Alright, I’m going to ask a few questions then,” He looks again at the clipboard, his pen hovering over it. “Simon?” He glances at me, of course, he knows who I am.  
“Yes.”  
“Would you say you’ve reached a point in your relationship where you’re in love with your partner?”  
I open my mouth, glancing frantically at Baz. I don’t know what to say, that I love him? I can feel my cheeks heat at the thought. But we’ve supposedly been dating for over a year, so shouldn’t we be in love? Why did they have to ask me first? Baz would know what to say, but his face is cool, giving nothing away.  
“Uh, yeah-yes.” I cringe at the hesitant answer.  
“Alright,” A mark of the pen.  
“And, Tyrannus?” He looks at Baz, and nearly chuckle at his first name.  
“Call me Baz,” He throws a somewhat subtle glare at me. “And, yes, I am in love with him.”  
I can’t help but blush, despite the fact that this is all an act and I just said the very same thing.  
“Great,” A short scribble.  
“Now, I’m just going to have you stare into each other's eyes for a few minutes. I’ll be monitoring your heart rate, among other things,” He writes something else, looking expectantly up at us.  
Right, okay. Looking Baz in the eyes, I can do this.  
I make my eyes meet his, and as soon as they do, I feel kind of like I shouldn’t ever stop. His eyes are soft, softer than I’ve ever seen them in my life. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think about how he’s just acting. But that’s not the part of my mind that’s in control right now, so I just let myself study his eyes.   
He looks so in love, and I didn’t ever know Baz could act so well, and suddenly I’m thinking how lucky someone would be for him to look at them like that, for real.   
Wait, no.   
I don’t want Baz to look at me like that, because he’s a git. _And_ he’s boy. And I’m not gay, and even if I were gay, I wouldn’t like Baz because he’s a git.  
But his _eyes_.  
 **Baz**  
This is possibly the worst thing I’ve ever done, because Simon is looking at me with those dopey eyes of his. The eyes usually reserved for Wellbelove, and I don’t really care that it’s not real because those _eyes_.  
 **Simon**  
I don’t know why I feel this way, I mean, I’ve never even felt this way about Agatha (I mean, close, but not this intensely). But again, he’s my enemy (maybe that’s a little dramatic, but nemesis at least). And he’s also a boy, and _he’s_ straight, surely. Right?  
And so am I. I think.  
When the activity is finally over I force myself to tear my eyes away from Baz, as soon as I do, Baz goes back to looking just as indifferent to me as he always does (or as indifferent as he looks when he’s not actively glaring at me), and it hurts a little.   
Maybe we should be friends, that would be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was good. I'm happy to be back, and I don't think it'll be too long before the next installment. As always, If you notice typos I'd appreciate a heads up so I can fix them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon takes Baz on a (fake) date, and neither of them knows what's real anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a very long time since I updated, but this is the final chapter. I always knew that I would finish this, I'm just sorry it took so long. Hope you guys enjoy!

**Simon**

“Do you want to like, go out or something?” I ask Baz (very casually), as we’re walking from class to our room.

Baz, who’d previously been staring very intently at his phone, whips his head up to look at me. “What?” His eyebrows are knit together, and his head is tilted just to the left (it’s kind of adorable, actually).    
“I mean like, to keep this up, shouldn’t we be seen together?” I shrug like it doesn’t matter. It does, of course, matter, because I really want him to say yes.

“Aren’t we being seen together right now?” He gestures to the outdoors, the people walking past us, sitting on the lawn, going about their daily lives. 

“Well, yeah. But I mean like a date. It’s gotta be realistic, right?”  

“Snow, I don’t think anyone’s going to be calling us on our bullshit at this point. I don’t actually think anyone cares,” He’s put his phone away, and occasionally he’ll look at me out of the corner of his eye (then quickly look away when our eyes meet). 

“Come on, it can’t hurt,” I don’t know why I’m pushing this so much, in fact, I’m probably just making this harder on myself. A date with Baz cannot go well, but that doesn’t make me want it any less. 

Baz is silent for a while, such a long time that I start to wonder if he’s even going to answer. Finally, as we’re nearly back to the room, he says. “Fine, whatever Snow.”

I break into a smile (only because I know he isn’t looking at me), and say, “Cool, I’ll pick you up tonight at 8?” Before practically running ( _ practically _ , I don’t want to seem too enthusiastic) off to plan this “date”.

“Where are you going?” I heard Baz call, sounding very irritated, from behind me. 

“Nowhere!”

**Baz**

I’m going on a date with Simon Snow. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

**Simon**

At first, I think that I should go to Penny, because she’s my best friend and I go to her with everything. But then I realize that that would require me telling her (or her figuring out, because she’s not an idiot) about my feelings for Baz. 

So instead, I decide on someone else, someone who might actually be able to help me. 

\---

Agatha looks (rightfully) confused when I knock on her door to her dorm room. She also looks a little pissed off. 

“What is it, Simon?” She says, and it kind of makes me want to up and leave. But she’s my only option, so I don’t. 

“Umm,” I’m fiddling with the hem of my shirt, avoiding her eyes. “Can we talk, in private?”

“This is pretty private, wouldn’t you agree?” She smirks a little, stepping back, an invitation into her room. 

“Oh right, you have a single,” I step in, awkwardly finding a place to sit on her desk chair. She sits on her bed.

I haven’t been here since we broke up, but her room is exactly the way I remember it, it’s exactly what you’d expect from a uni student. Collages on the wall, string lights, and a very bright bedspread.

“Won’t Baz be mad that you’re here?” _She_ looks mad that I’m there, her arms are crossed tightly across her chest and she looks very close to just kicking me out. 

“No, it’s-He’s not the jealous type.”

“That not really how it seemed when we had lunch the other day. Does he even know you’re here?” I don’t know why she’s asking so much about Baz, can’t she and I just be friends?

“It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t control me,” I say, putting my hands behind my neck. I shouldn’t have come here, my ex-girlfriend is  _ not  _ going to want to help me plan a date for my current boyfriend (fake boyfriend, but still). 

“Good to know, now why are you here?” 

“Er, I was sort of hoping you’d help me plan a date with Baz,” I smile in response to her scowl.

“Why would I do that, Simon? You’re my ex-boyfriend, and I don’t even like Baz,” She tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, when we first started dating, I remember thinking how cute Agatha looked when she did that. 

“I know, but I don’t have anyone else to turn to, you of all people know how terrible at planning dates I am,” I grin at her, trying to lighten the mood. 

Her mouth quirks up in the corners at the memory of a certain disaster of a date we had when we first started going out. It consisted of a very cheap arcade that smelled like urine and birthday cake. “You  _ are _ terrible.”

“I really can’t believe you still went out with me after that,” I chuckle, remembering the anxiety I had that night after I went home, thinking I’d never see her again. 

“I can’t either, but you were cute.” She’s laughing now too, and it feels good to be friendly with her. “And anyway, surely Baz already knows that you’re a terrible date planner, you’ve been going out for months.”

“I’ve actually...never planned one of our dates,” I know she’s going to judge me, thinking I’ve been doing the bare minimum in this relationship, even if she does hate Baz.

“You’ve got to start putting more effort into your relationships, Simon. That’s why we broke up.” She looks to the ground when she says this, avoiding my eyes.

I open my mouth, then close it. Agatha never told me why we broke up, she just left me with ‘I’ve got to figure myself out’ and ‘It’s not you, it’s me’.

“I’m trying,” I smile sheepishly, feeling bad. “Can you help me  _ not _ fuck this one up?”

She rolls her eyes, and I think she’s going to say no, but instead, she says, “Fine. But  _ only  _ because I don’t hate Baz enough to put him through whatever you would have come up with.”

I beam at her, “Thank you! I just really want to impress him.” And it’s true, this date isn’t just about become friends with Baz. I want to see if he might like me, I want to test the waters.

**Baz**

As promised, Snow comes around at about 8 to pick me up. He’s wearing the same thing we was when I saw him earlier. He texted me beforehand just saying “not too fancy” so I just put on some jeans and a t-shirt, but I have no idea what we’re doing. 

“Snow, what are we doing?” I try to look annoyed, but I keep getting caught up in the fact that I’m going on a date with Simon Snow (a fake date, but my heart doesn’t seem to remember that).

He just smiles at me, holding his hand out for me to take, I do. “It’s a surprise.”

I just roll my eyes and let him lead me until we reach a skating rink that’s just outside of the campus.

I turn to Snow and slightly squint my eyes. “Roller skating? Snow, you’re like the least balanced person I know.” It’s true, he’s always tripping over absolutely nothing.

He just grins at me as he pulls me inside, “I guess you’ll have to hold me up then.”

I eye him dubiously, unsure of my ability to do that. Considering I haven’t skated in years.

We only have to wait in line a minute for the skate rental, which Snow pays for, and then we’re out on the rink. As promised, Snow is leaning heavily on me, and I feel like we might go down any minute. 

“Snow,” I can’t help but laugh despite myself as he stumbles and nearly brings us both down, even though we’re both still clutching the edge. “This was a terrible idea.” 

“I know,” He’s smiling so wide that I feel like this is a real date, and we’re having real fun. “But you laughed, so it’s okay.”   


“I laugh all the time,” I counter, even knowing it's not true. 

“You do not, you scoff,” Snow has one hand on the edge and one hand on me. I think that I’m faring pretty without Snow bringing me down. “We should go out there, we can’t just stand here the whole time,” He nods to the open part of the rink, there aren’t many people out there, but I have a feeling we’d still manage to crash into one of them.

“Alright Snow, your funeral,” I push gently against the edge and propel us forward. Snow only grips harder onto my arm, but surprisingly doesn’t topple immediately. 

We go for a few slow circles around the edge, he keeps looking at me, but we don’t talk much only the third time around when he says. “So, any plans after uni?”

I furrow my eyebrows, in our years living together, he’d never asked about my plans. “I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. If it were anyone else, or any other situation, I might not admit I don't have it all figured out. As nightmarish as it sounds I’ll probably end up working for my father's company.

“Me neither,” He shrugs, “But I like cooking.” 

I smile at him, of course, he likes cooking. Anything to do with food.

We talk for a while, and it’s really nice. And this feels like a real date, I’m not even sure what to think of Snow anymore. 

Snow is in the middle of a particularly interesting story about a customer he had at the bookstore when he stumbles out of nowhere. Falling and taking me down with him. I land nearly on top of him, and it should be awkward, but he’s just laughing, so I laugh along with him.

“I really like it when you laugh, Baz,” He smiles, and we’re not laughing anymore, he’s just looking me in the eyes. I can feel my heart beating faster than it really should be. And Simon seems to be moving in a little closer, and I think he might kiss me.

I really want to kiss him, especially when he’s looking at me with those happy eyes. I should just kiss him, even if it’s fake, just once. Just to see what it would feel like.

He’s inches away from my face when I pull away suddenly, I can’t do this, I can’t kiss the man I love when he’s just acting. “We don’t need to do this,” I mutter, sitting back and pulling off my skates. “No one cares if we’re dating, let alone if we kiss.” I leave Simon alone as I collect my shoes and leave. 

I let a few tears escape my eyes on the walk home, glad Snow isn’t around to see them. I shouldn’t be mad, but I am. Simon doesn’t know that he’s playing with my feelings, it’s not his fault. But it’s easier when you have someone to blame. 

**Simon**

I sit alone on the rink for too long, wondering what I did wrong. 

I  _ really _ wanted to kiss him.

\---

I don’t go back to the room for awhile, I don’t want to upset Baz. But I also don’t really want to see him. I really thought that we had connected, I thought that maybe this could be real. I’m an idiot.

When I finally do go back, Baz is asleep in his bed, and I breathe a sigh of relief before changing and collapsing into my own bed. I’m exhausted, but before I can drift off to sleep Baz says something so quietly I can barely hear it. 

“What?” I whisper, loud enough that he can hear me. 

“I don’t think that we should do this anymore.”

“Do what? Dates? Was it really that bad?” I make a lame attempt at a laugh, but Baz doesn’t react to it.

“Any of it, the study. It’s too much for only  £ 100 .”

This time I sit up in bed and glare over at him, “Maybe for you, but-”

“I’ll pay you the fucking money Snow, I’m sorry that I even agreed to this.” His voice sounds ragged, and I play it off on the fact that he just woke up. 

I feel a little offended, “I don’t want you to  _ pay _ me Baz, I want you to finish what you started.”

He doesn’t respond, which I take to mean that he’s quitting anyway. 

**Baz**

I don’t give Snow a response, because it’s late, and I’m tired. Instead, I just roll in my bed so I’m not facing him. I just really need to sleep. 

“Why didn’t you want to kiss me?” Snow asks, he’s such an idiot, offended that I wouldn’t fake kiss him.

“I don’t want to fake kiss my roommate, Snow. It’s not that weird.”

“I wanted to.” 

I freeze in my bed, surely he doesn’t mean what I think he means. I can't let myself hope for something like that, I've let myself hope way too much these last few weeks.  But I also don’t know what else he could be saying.

“What?” Is all I say, because I can’t give too much away.

“I wanted to kiss you.”

“Simon-” I cut off when I hear him get out of bed, and sit up to find him right next to me. Before I can say anything he sits down, and now our faces are only inches apart.

I can feel his warm breath on my face, and he's way too close, or maybe not close enough. “Baz, I don’t know if this is weird, but I kind of like you. For real, and it doesn’t seem like you feel the same way, but I just-”

I cut him off by pressing my lips to his, he lets out a surprised noise but doesn’t pull away. His mouth is so warm, and he’s doing this nice thing with his mouth, and I’m kissing Simon Snow, for real.

**Simon**

Baz kisses me and he’s cold, but not in a bad way, and he smells so good. I put my hand up into his hair, it’s just as soft as I always thought it was. I wonder how long I've wanted this, probably since we met.

I pull back after what feels like an hour, and  _ god _ he looks good when he isn’t busy being all perfect. 

“This is real, right?” I say, quietly, even though I already know the answer.

Baz chuckles, “Of course this is real, you idiot.” But he says it with a smile. And I just kiss him again. Can you be in love this fast? Maybe I’ve been in love with him for a long time, I don’t know. I’m just happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write an epilogue, I'm not sure, but I've had so much fun writing this story, even though it took such a long time. I plan to write more Snowbaz fanfiction, thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So...I was looking around and I couldn't find a Snowbaz fake dating fic anywhere? Like...anywhere? So if you of one I'd love to hear it. Anyway, it's based around this (http://lesbianrey.tumblr.com/post/139998890690/looks-like-the-perfect-opportunity-for-the-fake) post, because it fit so well. If you find typos, please tell me so I can fix them. Thank you and I hope you all like it!


End file.
